Carrie Jones Books

Earplugs

Earplugs So much loudness these days. The beats of arguments Thud into the skin, Incessant like the blades Of helicopters, slicing through air. Should words be so loud That they become violence. Then—a bird flits on a porch rail, A dog wags its tail in silence—the world Breathes for a second, breathes in. And then it starts again. A voice. A decree. A judgement. A song. A show. How loud we all are as we decry.

Hi! This year (2023), I’m continuing my quest to share a poem on my blog and podcast and read it aloud. It’s all a part of my quest to be brave and apparently the things that I’m scared about still include:

  1. My spoken voice
  2. My raw poems.

Thanks for being here with me and cheering me on, and I hope that you can become braver this year, too!


For Anne & Maxine

Why is it that the dead

Never listen to my pillow talk?

I am tired, but can’t sleep

Again and again and again.

You snore next to me

And occasionally twitch

As the dog snuggles in between us,

Released from her crate

Because she cries so much.

Again and again and again,

Why is that my whines

Never wake anyone up?

Not even myself.




Hey, thanks for listening to Carrie Does Poems.

The music you hear is made available through the creative commons and it’s a bit of a shortened track from the fantastic Summer Spliff by Broke for Free.

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